The Age Difference
by Blondie47
Summary: Emma is told just how old Regina really is. SwanQueen; one-shot.


"Well I just do not _want_ to," Regina snapped at the sheriff, hands crossed, posture rigid - an image of an independent woman. Her voice, however, sounded like a six year old refusing to get dressed.

Emma run her hand through her blonde curls (_ah, that beautiful mane, no, focus Regina!_) and rested it on her neck, looking at the brunette.

"Oh come on, it is just a birthday party. There is nothing to it. It is more for the town than you anyway," Regina shot her an annoyed look.

"Uhm, that came out wrong," Emma huffed. _Who knew it would be this hard to get Regina agree to throw a birthday party? _"Look, the town needs to see you are actually a fun, decent human being and not an evil witch anymore. I am sure a nice party to celebrate your birthday would just do that. Besides, it is a much better idea than throwing you a surprise party, isn't it?"

Regina was standing in front of her desk, leaning against it, still in a rejecting position.

"I already told you, I do not want a birthday party of any kind, Miss Swan. Is it that hard for you to respect that?"

"Miss Swan my ass," Emma rolled her eyes and in less than two swift strides she was in Regina's personal space, hands wrapping around her torso. The mayor had no other choice than to uncross her arms and slide them up Emma's check, resting the palms at the back of her neck. She refused to meet her eyes.

"Come on, Regina. What is wrong with a little party?" Emma gently nuzzled her neck. "I would be all dressed up for you. In an actual _dress_, you know."

"Now that would be a sight," Regina grinned. Then, realising what they were still talking about, she frowned.

"I am old, Emma."

The blonde could not suppress the giggle that escaped her lips against Regina's dark skin. She got not-so-gently smacked on her back in return. "It's not funny!"

"That's _it _? You don't want a birthday party because you feel old?"

The former Evil Queen sighed. "I do not _feel_ old, Emma, I _am_ old. It would just be a reminder of how…awkward things should be between us, given how many years I am your senior."

Emma cocked her head, apparently confused. "Regina, you are thirty-six years old. You are not old. Come on. You are like —-" she paused, obviously counting " —- six years older than me. I would not even be pegged as a trophy wife yet."

"A trophy fiancée, to be exact," the older woman smiled, stroking the silver ring on her finger. She could not believe Emma asked her to marry her. (in Henry's words: for like _ever_) "And you are not absolutely correct about that."

Another confused look. Sometimes Emma could look like a picture-perfect illustration of a Legally Blonde poster. Gathering all her courage, Regina explained.

"I knew you mother, Emma. When she was six years old. I watched her grow up."

Hoping Emma would put two and two together, she paused. No such luck.

"Yeah, and?"

"When I cast the curse," Regina took a deep breath when she remembered all they had to go through since the curse was cast and broken and cast again and broken again, "I was thirty four years old when I cast it. Then the time stopped for twenty eight years. But even though the time stopped, that does not change the fact that I lived for another twenty eight years. And then the time after you came here…that is another two years. Add that up, dear."

Emma stared at her wife-to-be. What was she getting at?

"Technically, I am sixty four years old."

Emma kept staring.

"Emma?"

And staring.

"Uhm, dear? Are you alright?"

And staring.

After a few moments she opened her mouth just to close it again and stare some more. Then, after a few more blank stares she said: "You are a fucking cougar!"

"Excuse me?" Regina reacted, her hands no longer on Emma's back. Instead she put them behind her on the marble desk. She could not determine what the blonde's reaction is: is that anger, shock or…amusement?

Emma helped her out by laughing like a mad person. "I am dating a granny!" she chocked through her tears of laughter that slowly progressed into a desperate sobbing of some strange kind. Honestly, Emma just seemed crazy.

"If you find it so hilarious then feel free to leave!" Regina barked, offended by the curious reaction. "It is not like I need to date such a child," she added for good measure. If Emma is going to leave her, the least she can do is assume a little dignity about it.

The hurt in the beautiful brown eyes did not go unnoticed by Emma who immediately took her back into her arms. "Come on, babe," she said, gently tracing Regina's face (for a moment she delighted in the fact that she _could_, now that they were officially an item).

"I don't care if you are a hundred years old," Regina looked up, comforted a little by Emma's words. "As long as you look this hot, I don't give a damn about your age."

Regina grinned at that. "You are terrible, Miss Swan."

Emma kissed her slowly, expressing as much love for the brunette as she could in such a simple gesture.

"Now, do you want to have all the sixty four candles on the cake me and Henry baked you or should we just buy the numbers? I mean, it will be cheaper…" she said when they parted, getting a slap from Regina on her ass.

"No cake! No birthday party, no celebrations, no anything."

"Okay," the blonde agreed, suspiciously easily. Regina sighed.

"You're going to throw me a surprise party now, aren't you?"

"Yup."

"Emma!"


End file.
